Anytime
by myrhymesarepurer
Summary: FMAB, Post-Promised Day / It was not his Captain standing there in front of him. It was his master's daughter, so brutally burdened with ink, secrets so cruelly exposed to the world by one blasted broken zipper. / Royai


_**a/n** trying to get better at that whole Royai drabble thing. where it's super small. this one is only like_  
 _where it's super small. this one is only like 900 words. are you proud of me?_ i'm _proud of me._

also _this totally doesn't fit into the canon of my_ edwin _wedding fics._  
 _but,_ i _whipped it up. thought it was cute._  
 _practice practice._

* * *

Riza Hawkeye did not curse often.

But, this was an exception.  
This was a major exception.

The zipper was stuck.  
 _dammit_ _  
dammit  
dammit_

She tugged.  
The zipper then _broke._  
 _Of course_ the zipper _broke._

"Is something wrong, Miss Riza?" Winry had asked,  
perfectly oblivious to what exactly this mishap entailed.

Riza stood behind the dressing screen, bit her lip hard  
and let the gears in her head turn.

But, she was quick.

She knew from the second the purple fabric snagged.  
The only way she could wear that bridesmaids' dress  
was to duck out of Winry's room,  
and get to Ed's.

She needed an excuse.

"I-uh," she swallowed, utterly flustered, _frazzled_. How unusual.  
"I must step out and speak with the General."

Riza slipped on her robe, pulling it tight around her back.  
Winry raised an eyebrow while the room of girls watched  
her step out from behind the screen.

Pinako puffed her pipe, "About _what_ exactly?"  
Riza blinked. Mae squeaked. Winry smirked.

Any interaction whatsoever with Roy Mustang guaranteed a sly smile,  
a _'knowing'_ grin from any one of these women,  
though, however, only innocently interested in her own happily ever after.

for the most part

Still, Riza had no time to explain, defend, nor deny.  
"I'd like his opinion on our forbidden romance."

She left them stunned and silent while slipping into the hall  
to knock on Ed's door, the room for the groomsmen.

Roy opened it, and _thank all that is good in the universe_ , he was alone.  
"They went out on a walk. The pipsqueak is pretty freaked out."  
Roy blinked then evaluated her, head to toe.

Beautiful, his first thought.  
 _Panicked_ , his second.

"What's wrong, Captain?"

Only it wasn't his Captain standing there. It was his master's daughter,  
his childhood best friend so brutally burdened with ink.  
Her darkest secrets so cruelly exposed to the world

by one blasted  
broken zipper.

He could see it.  
She was reliving her past right before him.  
She bit her lip and fought off the cloudiness in her eyes  
while she could feel the sear of the burns on her back for the first time in years.

She ran, she _rushed_ , to her father's apprentice for help,  
her secret keeper, the piece of her past that had not broken her.

She stepped into the room, shrugged off her robe,  
and wondered why she could not enjoy one of life's simplest joys.

Weddings: dancing and cake,  
and rings and beautiful dresses.

Happily ever after.

It seemed such things were not fit for Riza Hawkeye.  
It was something about her, the woman herself perhaps,  
that seemed to ruin it all – one way or another.

This time.  
This damned zipper.  
This damned _tattoo._

Perhaps it was what she deserved, she knew.  
But, truly, still. She could not catch a break.

Her scars pulled, tightened, shredded.  
Her father's ink sunk into her blood, ran through her veins,  
a toxin that she felt was bound to stop her heart.

Roy's hand ran mindlessly down her skin,  
ink and scars, pointless apologies on his lips.

 _What if it was broken for good?_ _  
How was she to explain this to-_

He plucked a bobby pin from her hair,  
slipped it through the zipper loop,  
and pulled.

"Done."

She lifted her head and blinked, feeling a great bit foolish  
that she stood in front of her superior, tortured over an issue  
he managed to solve in,  
oh,  
less than one second.

How very Roy Mustang.

"All those sisters pay off from time to time," he huffed,  
admiring his handiwork. Quite the perfectly zipped zipper.

Riza held the bridge of her nose and squeezed,  
steadying her heartbeat, steadying her breathing,  
feeling so stupid  
so foolish

so broken.

"Hawkeye,"

The burn was gone. He touched her skin,  
zipped the dress, and the burn was gone.

"Hawkeye, Look at me." Roy grasped her shoulders  
and guided her around to face him.

 _Hawkeye_ he said.  
 _Riza_ he most certainly meant.

Riza lifted her chin to meet him watching the soldier he was  
melt into the boy she once knew, quick, intelligent,  
and painfully,  
obnoxiously charming.

"This is why you keep me around."

She once had a crush on that boy, her mind most inconveniently noted  
while the man he became gave a deliciously warm smirk.

She said nothing to that smirk,  
explained nothing,  
denied nothing,  
did nothing  
but press her lips to his cheek feather light,  
smudge the traces of lipstick off with her thumb  
and turned to the door.

"Thank you, Sir," she said softly.

Roy was very much glad she could not see his cheeks  
in that moment, turn a blazing red and ghostly white all at once.

It wasn't uncommon for Roy Mustang to save the day.  
He, admittedly, quite arrogantly, prided himself  
in his quick and clever problem-solving.

It came in handy back in the day, particularly when impressing girls.  
Such tactics, of course, never had quite worked on the one that mattered,  
so he thought.

She kissed his cheek.  
He cleared his throat,

" **Anytime**."

* * *

 _I really need to grasp the whole tiny drabble thing. I really need to get that down._  
 _If you liked this_ lil _layered piece, **review** for sure. catch me on _tumblr _:_ myrhymesarepurer


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